


Lazy Saturday.

by captnalbatr0ss



Series: The Captain and his Quartermaster [14]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:30:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captnalbatr0ss/pseuds/captnalbatr0ss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Rafe cook out and kick back, and Sam tries to find the right moment to bring up something that's been bothering him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lazy Saturday.

**Author's Note:**

> For a few Tumblr sentence prompts — 
> 
> “I’m pregnant.” / “Hey! I was gonna eat that!” / “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?” / “I think we need to talk.” / “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

* * *

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, Sam’s favorite kind of day. 

The weather was warm, but not hot, and Sam had decided over breakfast that today he would cook out. Rafe had found the idea agreeable, had even gone so far as to offer to handle some of the sides while Sam tended to their steaks.

Now they were laid out by the pool, both occupying the same oversized lounge chair, full and sleepy. Rafe was on his side, pressed close to Sam, who had flopped over on his back almost immediately after he finished eating, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“I’m so full,” he groaned.

Rafe could feel the vibrations as Sam talked, grinning to himself as he leaned across Sam, grabbing one more scrap of food.

“I’m  _sooo_   _full_ ,” Sam whined again, resting a hand on his belly. “I’m pregnant. This is what that feels like, it’s gotta be.”

Rafe raised a brow, resting his hand on top of Sam’s, tangling fingers with his lover. “I sincerely doubt that.”

Sam opened one eye, grinned as he plucked the last piece of food right out of Rafe’s fingers, popping it in his mouth before Rafe could stop him.

“Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

“You were? Ah, babe, sorry…” Sam’s little smile was both apologetic and mischievous.

“No you’re not,” Rafe sighed, returning his head to Sam’s chest, closing his eyes and listening to the slow, steady beat of Sam’s heart. “I thought you were full.”

Rafe felt Sam’s shoulder lift in a slight shrug. “I’m pretty damn full.”

“Well I’m not as full as you, and I was looking forward to that bite. You owe me, Sam.”

Sam removed the arm from his eyes, leaning up and looking down at Rafe, who tilted his head back to meet Sam’s eyes.

“Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

“A massage isn’t the same as food.”

“Ah, c’mon, lemme rub on ya. You always feel better after.” 

Sam was full on grinning now, reaching down to rake his fingers through Rafe’s dark hair, enjoying the softness of it—Rafe hadn’t bothered much with it today, another thing Sam loved about their lazy Saturdays. He didn’t often get to really appreciate how soft, how smooth it was without product in it.

Rafe closed his eyes, leaning into Sam’s touch. “Mmm. I suppose that’ll do.”

“Scoot over.”

Rafe did, rolling onto his stomach and resting his head on his arms. Sam sat up, straddling Rafe’s hips, sitting back on his thighs. He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Rafe’s nape as his hands got to work, strong fingers focusing on Rafe’s shoulders—working out any knots he found. By the time Sam made his way to Rafe’s lower back, the smaller man was practically purring.

Sam pressed the heel of his hand low on Rafe’s spine, slid it up the length of Rafe’s lithe body, wetting his lips as he watched Rafe roll his shoulders in response, as he heard the low moan it earned him.

“Fuck, Sam, you really are good at that,” he sighed, and Sam could tell from his voice that he was well and truly relaxed.

He took a deep breath, decided it was now or never, decided that this was probably his best opportunity. It was always a challenge to find the right moment to bring up topics that Rafe actively avoided.

“Rafe?”

“Mmm.” Rafe was floating somewhere between asleep and awake, but the corner of his lips turned up in a smile when Sam said his name.

“I think we need to talk.” Sam almost changed his mind, worried that Rafe was too sleepy, but the words were spilling out, making his decision for him.

Rafe’s smile quickly faded, his eyes opening to look up at Sam over his shoulder. “That sounds serious.”

Sam lifted himself off of Rafe, laying on his side next to him. Rafe shifted to face Sam, searching his eyes for a clue, an indication, anything. 

“Remember last week? When we went out on the yacht?”

“Sam.” Rafe knew at once where this was going, and he wasn’t interested in discussing it again. He rolled onto his back, covering his face with his hands. “I don’t want to do this.”

Sam’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “I know. But it’s important.”

“It was nothing, Sam. Just the heat.”

“Rafe, it wasn’t nothing. You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, feeling suddenly much less relaxed. “Jesus, Sam. I wasn’t…trying to ‘get your attention’. I just got too hot. Hadn’t eaten much that day.” He shook his head. “It’s nothing. It’s not the first time I’ve passed out, I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

“Relax, I know you weren’t really trying to— Ah, shit. Rafe, just…” Sam frowned, sitting up, bending his knees and resting his elbows on them. He was deep in it now, he could tell from the way Rafe’s eyes had narrowed, the way his jaw had tightened. “I’m worried about you, okay? You’ve been working yourself to death this last month, and I think that’s part of the problem. I think it’s that, more than the heat, or anything else. Even you have your limits, baby.”

“I’m not doing this with you, Sam. Not again.”

Rafe started to get up, but Sam’s arms were around his waist before he could get too far.

“Let go of me.”

“No.” Sam held on firmly, tugged Rafe back down, rolled on top of him.

“Get your heavy ass off of me,” Rafe said, looking wholly unamused.

“No,” Sam said again. “Every time I try to do this with you, you shut me out like this. Why?”

“Sam—”

“No, Rafe, you answer me. Look, I love you, goddamnit, and you keep tellin’ me you love me, too, and if you do—”

A spark in Rafe’s eyes. “How dare you question that I lo—”

“Let me finish,” Sam cut Rafe off before the anger could really bubble over. 

“What I mean is, we love each other. You and me, we’re in it. For better or worse, Rafe, and I—” Sam frowned, not expecting his voice to catch the way it did. “I just…I love you so fuckin’ much, and I get worried when I think you might not be okay. Now, I’ve sat back and let you tell me before that something was nothing, but I can’t do that every single time I worry about you. I won’t. And I’m telling you, you need to ease up. You can’t keep on like this, burning your candle at both ends, it’s enough to wear anybody down.”

Rafe continued to scowl up at Sam, but the look on Sam’s face, one of genuine concern, of love, it softened Rafe.

“Sam,” Rafe finally spoke, his voice softer. “I know you…worry about me. But I’m telling you, I can take care of myself.”

“Okay, except the thing is, you don’t have to.”

“I—” But Rafe paused.

“I worry because I love you, because you’re everything.” Sam brushed his lips against Rafe’s jaw, the underside of his chin. “I want to take care of you, baby, you just keep fighting me on it.”

Rafe relented, the hardness in his eyes, tension in his jaw, he let Sam drive it away as he continued to pepper Rafe with kisses.

“I promise to not make a big deal out of every little thing.” Sam closed his eyes as he nuzzled Rafe’s ear, his voice no more than a whisper. “But I need it to matter to you when I do.”

Rafe’s eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation of Sam’s breath, the softness of his lips, and of his demeanor. He felt the weight of Sam’s body on top of his, the pressure, it steadied him, grounded him. He wrapped his arms around Sam’s back, inhaling deeply. Sam smelled like cologne, like smoke from the grill, like the heat from the sun.

“Okay,” he finally replied, both of his hands gripping Sam’s shoulders. “I hear you. I’m listening.”

Rafe felt Sam relax in his arms, and was surprised that he hadn’t noticed all that tension to begin with. “Why don’t you finish what you started? I think I have a couple more knots you could work out.”

Sam pulled back slightly, his lips forming that rakish half smile that Rafe was so in love with.

“Well we can’t have that.”

And then Sam was rolling him over, a playful flurry of hands and lips, and Rafe almost hadn’t noticed how quickly Sam had rid them both of their clothes. First Rafe was laughing, and then he was moaning as Sam moved over him, moved into him, and the things he could do with his hands, with his body, made Rafe feel weightless.

“I love you.” Sam breathed the words, a heated confession, his hands coaxing Rafe to his peak, and over it.

“I love you, too,” Rafe gasped as Sam trembled, stilled above him. “I love you,” again, as Sam emptied himself, and Rafe felt so full, so complete.

It was a lazy Saturday, the afternoon sun was warm but not too warm, and the smell of smoke from the grill now mingled with sweat, with sex. And when Sam gently rolled off of Rafe, the smaller man turned with him, curled against him, and fell asleep.

It was Sam’s favorite kind of day.


End file.
